


Scientific Method

by orphan_account



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Community: hpvalensmut, Dragons, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-08
Updated: 2006-03-08
Packaged: 2017-11-02 08:38:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/367072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life during wartime requires some sacrifices, but it can also make old expectations irrelevant. Set during the First Wizarding War/Muggle World War II.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scientific Method

**Author's Note:**

> Written for florahart in hpvalensmut 2006. Flora's request: "AU is fun. MPreg is fun. Neither is a deal-breaker at all--just, they're fun. I like potential for being caught, dirty talk, uncertainty, desperate half-clothed sex, consent that exists but is iffy, and if you can work in a situation in which vegetables are plot-relevant, that will make me happy." I missed the mpreg but think I got the rest of it.

The note from his manager had been quite stern. Neville Longbottom twirled his pencil and gazed longingly out the office window at the neat rows of plants below, sprouting quietly in the early May sunlight, but Gambrel's wrath was legendary and he wasn't interested in repeating his latest encounter with the angry witch merely to escape a boring meeting with some requisitions officer. He sighed and began to doodle, drawing the various odd shapes of vegetable marrows that had popped up in his latest experiments.

"Those are rather unusual. Were they intended to look like that?"

Neville jumped at the unexpected voice and looked up. A tall redheaded man in a military uniform was leaning over his desk from the other side, looking down at the sketches on Neville's desk blotter. "They're anomalies in an experiment with vegetable marrows. That some of them are damn funny is merely a side benefit. This one looks rather like Grindelwald, I think."

The man laughed, then drew himself into a more formal posture. "Captain Charles Weasley, Magical Defence Forces, Dragon Detachment. Are you Lou Gambrel?"

Neville grinned. "No. Louisa's the department head, and I'm afraid you've been delegated to me." He pushed back from his desk and held out his hand. "Neville Longbottom. I'm one of the herbologists here. I work mostly in vegetables."

Captain Weasley shook his hand and then, with a cane Neville hadn't noticed, gestured to the wooden chair next to him. "Do you mind? Can't stand for long periods yet."

"Of course!" Neville came out from behind the desk and held the chair as Weasley sank carefully into it. "Tea?"

Weasley nodded. "Thank you. And then perhaps we could review the proposal? I'm afraid I've got to get back to the preserve this afternoon."

Neville went to the small sink in the corner of his office (a room he'd always suspected been a lavatory before the War) and ran a pot of water, then cast a quick boiling spell. As he fussed with leaves and mesh strainers, he took a moment to consider the square-shouldered man sitting across the room. "Weasley. Related to Ronald?"

"Older brother," Weasley said, twisting a bit to look back at Neville. "Were you up at Hogwarts together?"

"Yes," Neville said, loading everything onto a tray and carrying it back to his desk. He handed one thick chipped mug to his guest and kept one for himself, then unlocked the wards on the drawer where he hid his favorite biscuits and offered them as well. "Sorry for your family's losses, then."

"Yes, well." Weasley sipped his tea. "Thank you. It's not been easy."

"And now you're injured?"

Weasley laughed. "My own fault mostly. I got between a Chinese Fireball and her luncheon. Do you know much about dragons, Mr. Longbottom?"

"Only what I learned at school," Neville confessed. "May I assume dragons are why you're here?"

Weasley's broad freckled face crinkled in a grin. "Delegation without information? I thought that was just a Magical Defence management strategy."

"Afraid not," Neville said ruefully, "though I suppose we're technically an MDF unit for the duration. Assume I'm your dimmest corporal and that all the paperwork's been lost, why don't you?"

"You could never be as dim as my dimmest corporal, one Vincent Crabbe," Weasley said glumly.

Neville grinned despite himself. "I knew Crabbe at school. I'm sorry for your suffering."

"I suspect he's why you have no paperwork." Weasley laughed wryly. "Very well. I am currently the procurement officer for the MDF Dragon Detachment, and the one thing dragons need is food. It's hard enough in peacetime to get a nutritionally balanced diet for eight different species, and now that we're at war with Grindelwald's forces and the blasted Muggles are fighting on the same fronts, we're at a loss."

Neville pulled out his notebook and began to outline squares on the graphed paper. "Dragons are carnivores, aren't they? How can herbologists help?"

"You're an Herbological Research Station. It's our understanding that your unit's doing some work with specially-bred vegetables that might help as a meat replacement." Weasley sighed. "Humans aren't getting enough meat in Britain these days, Longbottom. It's hardly fair to divert even more of it to a few hungry beasts who'd eat a cow and demand another one ten minutes later."

Neville looked up from his notes with some surprise. "I'm doing some experiments on the side, but I didn't think anyone knew about them." He waved at the window behind him. "Vegetable marrows with a higher protein level and a more beneficial nutrient profile."

"Why marrows?"

Neville shrugged. "They're mostly water, which decreases the need for purifying local water sources. They're not highly-flavoured, which makes them more palatable for a variety of personal tastes, and they're uniformly shaped, which makes them easy to transport."

Weasley laughed and pointed at Neville's desk blotter. "Relatively uniformly-shaped, anyway." He pulled a folded piece of parchment from his inside pocket. "This is a nutritional profile which meets the basic needs of all eight dragon species we're currently housing at the preserve. Is this anything you could manage?"

Neville took the parchment and studied it. "With some work, I think so. It should take about a month, even with accelerated breeding. There's a limit on how far we can push growth cycles with magic if we want the changes to stick."

"We need an increased food supply three days before yesterday, so a month won't be much different. Right now, I'm afraid I've got to get back to the preserve." Weasley struggled to push himself upright, grimacing against obvious pain as he found his feet. "Owl me if you've any questions, will you? Of course, bill for your time. We'll find the funds somewhere."

"That's my superior's job," Neville replied. "I'm glad to have a practical purpose for an experiment she finds a waste of time, so it's mutually beneficial." He moved around Weasley to open the door for him. "Need an escort out?"

"I'll find my way." Weasley offered his hand to Neville. "Thanks for your help. I'll say hullo to Ron for you, shall I?"

Neville nodded, his hand still caught up in Weasley's firm, warm grasp. "That would be good of you, Captain. I'll send you some samples in a few days - no use breeding something that tastes like niffler dung to a dragon."

Weasley grinned. "If you're Ron's friend, you're practically family. It's Charlie, not Captain, and I thank you on behalf of my notoriously finicky Swedish Short-Snouts - the rest of them rather like niffler dung." He released Neville's hand and moved down the hall, tapping his cane smartly against the scuffed lino tiles.

Neville watched Charlie until he turned the corner at the end of the hall, then returned to his desk. Not ten minutes later, he was elbow-deep in computations, each stack of parchment held in place by a malformed vegetable marrow.

::

  


__**May 8, 1944**  
Captain Charles Weasley  
Dragon Detachment  
Magical Defence Forces 

_Captain Weasley:  
Pursuant to our meeting last Friday, enclosed in this package are eight sets of sample marrows. Please try them with each breed and fill out the attached checklist to describe reactions. (You may want to delegate this to someone other than Crabbe.)_

_Neville Longbottom_  
Assistant Senior Herbologist  
Herbology Research Laboratories, MDF 

__**May 10, 1944**  
Neville Longbottom  
Herbology Research Labs, MDF 

_Hullo Longbottom -_

_Enclosed please find, etcetera etc. The long-ish green striped ones were best received by all. The Welsh Greens refused to eat the red ones, and incinerated them in protest._

_Charlie Weasley  
MDF Dragon Detachment_

_By the bye - Ronnie's home on leave. There's to be a party. Would you like to come? Friday night at the Burrow._

__**May 10, 1944**  
Charlie Weasley  
MDF Dragon Detachment 

_Not surprising. The green striped ones are highest in both protein and carbohydrate. I'll work on that line, then. The red ones were curry-flavoured (my superior's idea)._

_I'd like to see Ron, but - I know your mum. Should I scare up a date of some sort to keep her from matchmaking?_

_Neville Longbottom_

_**May 11, 1944**  
Neville Longbottom_

_You're quite safe from anything more than perfunctory Mum-ness, as Ron's expected to announce his engagement to the terrifyingly-competent Miss Granger, who's currently reforming the Magical Medical Corps single-handed, and Fred's Luna is about to produce the first grandbaby. You can join me in the bachelor's corner if you like._

_Charlie_

_**May 11, 1944** _

_Offer gratefully accepted. I'll see you tomorrow. Enclosed please find a few more marrows - try them on your pickiest eaters._

_Neville_

::

  


On Friday afternoon, Neville changed his clothes four times before settling on the slightly mismatched look everyone seemed to be sporting these days: military-issue trousers and a hand-knit jumper over a nearly-threadbare shirt. His grandmother would have been mortified that he was going out in public in what she considered to be house-clothes, but she'd been gone for a few years. Neville had stopped listening to her long before then anyway. He picked up a box and Floo'ed through to the Burrow, stepping out into the ordinary riot and chaos that indicated multiple Weasleys at home.

"Neville! Dear boy, why do you never come visit?" Molly Weasley pounced on him at once.

"Hullo, Mrs. Weasley," Neville said. He handed her the box of thin-skinned oranges and delicate grapes. "We're working on some new rootstock and I thought you might like to sample the results."

"Grapes! Oh, Neville," Molly said with a hug, "this is extravagant indeed." She bustled away to the kitchen, and Neville looked around the room. He spotted Hermione and Ron in the corner and made his way across, shaking Ron's hand and daring to press a quick kiss to Hermione's cheek.

"Congratulations and best wishes," he said. "You're finally doing it?"

"Yes," Hermione said crisply. "The timing is ideal for children while we're still young and have access to military medical care."

Ron handed Neville a glass of punch and rolled his eyes. "Stay away from the ladies, Neville. They're deadly." He and Hermione began to bicker goodheartedly about whether they were marrying for love or children, and Neville smiled as he listened to the familiar banter. A touch to his arm jolted him out of his light reverie.

"Glad you could make it." Charlie grinned at him.

Neville found himself blushing a bit, and squelched the impulse immediately. "Thanks for mentioning it. It's good to see the old crowd again."

"You've met?" Hermione leaned over, curious.

"Neville's breeding specialized vegetable marrows for me," Charlie said seriously. Ron choked back a snort, turning bright red with suppressed laughter as Hermione whacked him on the shoulder and scolded him. Charlie drew Neville aside as the bickering grew louder.

"Sorry about that," Charlie said. "I should have known Ron would take it the wrong way."

"How so?"

"Well," Charlie said carefully, "I'm what you might call a confirmed bachelor." A flood of color washed under his freckles. "Ron knows it, and he rather likes teasing me. A vegetable marrow joke was too much to ask him to pass up."

"Ah," Neville said, covering his initial reaction by sipping his punch.

Charlie frowned and stepped back. "I'm sorry if it's a problem, Longbottom. I'll just -"

"No," Neville said, putting his hand on Charlie's arm to hold him back. "It's just unusual to hear someone bold enough to say it aloud, that's all." He knew he was blushing again, but ignored it long enough to catch Charlie's eyes.

"I thought you'd bring a girl," Charlie said, a bit of relief showing in his eyes.

Neville laughed and released Charlie's arm. "Hardly. My last girlfriend is over there, hugely pregnant with your future niece or nephew. She's the one who pointed out that I might be as confirmed a bachelor as you."

"She's like that," Charlie said ruefully. He grinned suddenly at Neville. "Say, what was with those samples you sent yesterday? I swear I thought I'd be assaulted for not having more. I think the Fireball bulls are still bellowing."

"Really?" Grateful for the abrupt change of subject, Neville pulled out his pocket notebook to show Charlie the nutritional profile of the latest marrow variant. "I tinkered with the mineral levels a bit. It must have affected the taste."

The two men fell into a detailed discussion of dragon metabolism and taste preferences, and the amount of marrows needed each day to sustain a herd of dragons in optimal physical condition. Neville's notebook quickly filled with calculations and projections, as well as a separate list of tasks for Charlie, who was to ascertain whether the land around the Scottish preserve could be improved rapidly enough to sustain the biointensive cropping methods needed to generate the required amount of food for the herd. By the time they'd come up with numbers both would accept, the party had died down around them.

"Where'd everyone go?" Neville looked around in confusion. They were surrounded by empty plates and sticky-rimmed punch cups, but all the people had disappeared.

Charlie's brow creased, then relaxed again. "The twins were going to do fireworks in the garden. Harry brought some back from China and they've been duplicating them."

Neville shuddered. "The twins and loud noises are things that shouldn't go together." As he spoke, a bang echoed through the room and he jumped, startled.

"Are you all right?" Charlie steadied him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Yes," Neville said. "I just don't do well when I'm surprised."

Charlie shrugged. "Occupational hazard of being a Weasley." He grinned. "Should we get out of here before the explosions increase?"

Neville closed his notebook and slid it into his pocket. "Good idea. Where to?"

"How about a visit to the dragons? You're security-cleared, aren't you?"

"No," Neville admitted. "Never got around to filing the papers. We could go to my office and pick up some more of the latest batch of marrows, though."

"We'll do both," Charlie decided. "We'll just have to sneak you into the pens rather than go in the front way. Let's Floo to your office first, shall we?"

Neville nodded and led the way to the Weasley fireplace, tossing in some powder and announcing his own work address. On the other end of the network, he stepped out into the hallway near his office and waited for Charlie to step out after him. "We'll go down this way to the harvest sheds. Do you need the lift? I noticed you didn't have the cane at the party, but you've got it now."

Charlie shrugged. "The pain comes and goes. Standing on the leg for a long time makes it worse. Stairs are fine."

Figuring that Charlie was capable of speaking up for himself, Neville led the way to the back staircase, going down and outside to the long low harvest sheds. They worked quietly, casting _Reducio_ on several baskets of marrows that sat apart at the end of a sorting table. Neville wrote a short note to the harvest supervisor and pinned it to the table, then turned to Charlie. "It's enough for a sample, anyway. We'll have more on Monday."

"Good enough. D'you mind Apparating sidelong? If I'm to bring you in under cover of darkness, the Floo's not exactly the best method."

Neville flushed, then nodded. He found it odd enough to be touched in any casual way, but to be wrapped snugly in the arms of a handsome man whom he'd just learned was equally uninterested in girls...well. Neville quickly turned his thoughts to memories of his gran's dainty handwashables in a futile attempt to keep himself under control, but still squeaked a bit as Charlie's arms slid around his waist.

The Apparation was as unsettling as always for Neville, who stood quietly with his eyes closed as he tried to calm his nerves. He'd almost forgotten that he had his own arms tightly wrapped around Charlie until a soft chuckle in his ear called him back to the present. "All right there, Neville?"

"Sorry," Neville said, jerking backward. "Apparation's not my favorite thing." He wondered why Charlie hadn't let go yet. Maybe his leg was hurting and he needed the support.

"It's faster than Floo and I can't fly in this state, so I'm afraid you're stuck with it at least once more tonight when I take you home," Charlie said with a smile. He pulled Neville closer for a moment, then released him. Neville thought he felt fingertips tracing along his waistband, but dismissed it as wishful thinking as he turned to follow Charlie along the dirt path that disappeared into the woods ahead.

As they made their way through the trees, Neville noticed a dim glow ahead. Low bass rumblings just barely echoed through the woods, more tactile than audible. Charlie paused in the middle of the path and turned back toward Neville. "Stay low and quiet. There will be at least two keepers on guard, and if you're not cleared - well. Wartime, you know?"

Neville nodded and moved a bit closer to Charlie, whispering. "Should we go back?"

"No," Charlie said softly. "We'll cut around back and approach from the sheltered side. The cows I want to see are back there anyway. We'll go see the Viperteeth first; they're calmest with strangers. No sudden movements, all right?" He moved forward again, then took an abrupt left into the underbrush. Neville stayed as close as he could. The trail was barely visible underfoot, and the glow from the pens had dimmed. He reached forward and took hold of Charlie's belt so he wouldn't get left behind. A soft chuckle drifted back to him, but Charlie didn't tell him to stop, so Neville hung on and kept the pace.

After a bit of scrambling, they came out along a low stone fence. Charlie reached back and detached Neville's grip from his belt, gently squeezing before dropping his hand and scrambling over the fence. "Stay here," he hissed, then turned to make some low guttural noises. Neville crouched down and quietly returned one of the marrow baskets to its original size as Charlie climbed back over the fence to join him. "It won't be long. I had to wake them up."

Neville smiled tentatively, then returned to his task. He felt something brush across his hair and wondered why Charlie was being so familiar until he heard Charlie speak, almost as if he were scolding. "Naughty girl, Maria! Stay back." Neville looked up, almost directly into a dragon's curious golden eyes, and fell back onto the ground in amazement.

"Toss her a marrow," Charlie said. "Just flip it across the fence."

Neville was stiff with terror and stayed where he was, so Charlie threw the marrow for the dragon cow, hurling it halfway across the pen. Maria trotted gracefully to it and snapped it down, then exhaled a tiny stream of flame. "She liked it," Charlie said thoughtfully. "I hadn't tested the Viperteeth on this batch yet."

Maria came closer, making a series of alto chirrups that grew louder with each repetition. Charlie frowned at her. "Tomorrow. We can't risk you bringing the other keepers down here, Maria." The dragon frowned at Charlie, then opened her throat and chirruped more loudly. Charlie swore and threw the rest of the basket at her, then grabbed Neville's hand and hauled him up. "There's a cave back here. They'll have to come down for that kind of noise, so we'd best make ourselves scarce."

Neville followed close on Charlie's heels until they were safely inside the tiny stone crevice. He could see the dragonkeepers come down the path, the bluish light of _Lumos_ glimmering from their wands as they checked the pen and the dragons within. He tried to still his racing heart, though it was difficult when he realized he was crammed into a small rock depression against a tremendously fit man who happened to fancy blokes. Neville tried resolutely not to think about this, and mostly succeeded by thinking instead of his near-immolation at the nostrils of a slender black dragon cow.

"They're taking too long," Charlie breathed against Neville's neck. The fringe of hair over his ear tickled when Charlie exhaled, and Neville fought an inappropriate fit of giggles. "Ssssh," Charlie hissed. He pulled Neville back further into the crevice until he was practically sitting on Charlie's lap.

"Sorry," Neville whispered.

"Quiet," Charlie said, his lips practically on Neville's ear and his arms now tightly laced around Neville's waist. "If we're caught, it's my job."

Neville shivered, though whether it was at the proximity or the meaning of Charlie's words he could not tell. Just a few more minutes and they'd get away. He'd be back safely in his boring little flat and his predictable routine, left only to think about dragons and Weasleys and the soft lips pressing kisses against the back of his neck - sweet Merlin, was Charlie _kissing his neck_? He turned just a bit, but Charlie's arms held him in place.

"Sssssh," Charlie whispered against his skin. "Let me. Your job is just to stay quiet."

Neville forced himself to stare out of the crevice and concentrate on the bobbling wandlights still moving around the pen as Maria pouted and cried for more marrows. Behind him, Charlie's lips moved up and down his neck, nibbling and kissing the exposed skin. Neville jumped a bit as he felt hands sliding under his jumper and tugging at his belt, but he stayed quiet, only moving enough to give Charlie more space. In a way, he thought, this was better than the alternative, as he had absolutely no idea how to do any of this with another man.

Luckily, Charlie seemed to have the situation well in hand, and soon he had that hand plunged down the front of Neville's trousers and snaking its way into his Y-fronts. At the first touch of unfamiliar skin against his own, Neville startled. He would have whimpered if Charlie had not set his teeth carefully against Neville's shoulder, biting down enough to remind him of his sole duty to stay quiet. Charlie's voice was feather-soft in his ear. "Kneel up, will you?"

Obediently, Neville pushed to his knees. Charlie came with him, one arm still wrapped around his waist while the other pushed at his trousers. Neville helped, not sure how far off they were to go, but when they hit mid-thigh Charlie stopped pushing. "This is normally where one says things about how stunning his partner is," Charlie breathed, "but the situation prevents. I'll make it up to you later." His square callused hand took firm hold of Neville's rigid cock, nearly distracting Neville from the sound of an unfamiliar spell and the resulting cold stickiness surrounding his arse. Charlie nudged Neville's knees apart a bit, and returned to kissing his neck and shoulders as his hands alternated between firm strokes to Neville's cock and gentle probing touches to his puckered entrance.

Soon, Neville was so intent on not spilling across Charlie's hand that he almost failed to notice the two fingers buried inside him. He did notice when they were withdrawn, and the new blunt pressure pushing against him as Charlie moved closer. "Please," Neville said softly.

"Yes?"

"Yes." Neville pushed his hips back a bit, managing to seat himself on Charlie's tip. Charlie groaned and wrapped his left arm around Neville's waist again, his right hand still stroking Neville's erection. Neville pushed back once more in encouragement, and Charlie took it as such, beginning to thrust into Neville as Neville thrust into Charlie's fist.

For a brief bewildering moment, Neville nearly lost control to a spate of laughter as he wondered what his dear departed gran would think if she knew he was being buggered within hearing distance of a dragon herd by a Weasley, but Charlie's soft moans brought him back to the present. Neville had fought his own release as long as he could; reaching down for Charlie's free hand, he brought it to his lips and sucked two of Charlie's fingers into his mouth, letting the rough skin scrape against his tongue and provide the last bit of sensation he needed to fall over the edge. He fell forward as come splattered against the rock wall, Charlie's hand now still and firm as the pulses died away.

"All right there?" Charlie's lips were soft against Neville's cheek. Neville nodded in return, not trusting his voice yet. "This won't take long," Charlie said, a bit ruefully, and reached around Neville to brace one hand against the wall as he began to pound into Neville with increasing speed. True to his word, within a few minutes Charlie was biting down on Neville's jumper to stifle his cries as he came.

They slumped together on the cave floor, entangled in arms and clothing and the tiny baskets of marrows that had - mostly - escaped being mangled. Charlie peered out into the night, which was once again still and dark. "It looks like they're gone," he said, and rolled away from Neville to do up his trousers.

Neville climbed to his feet and fastened his own buttons, then helped Charlie to his feet. "Your leg..."

"Is a bit sore," Charlie admitted. "I need a hot bath and a pain potion." He grinned quickly at Neville, his white teeth flashing in the moonlight. "Worth it, though. Sorry it wasn't a better first try."

"First?"

"Well, yes," Charlie said hesitantly. "I wouldn't want you thinking that this was only about taking advantage of a bad situation."

"Or about Ron's specially-suited vegetable marrows?" Neville smiled at Charlie, handing him his cane.

"Of course not," Charlie said, stepping carefully back down to the main path. "We didn't even get to the marrows."

Neville laughed, a bit too loudly, and Maria came back across the paddock toward them, chirruping. "Shite," Charlie grumbled. "Throw her the rest of them, will you? Then grab on."

Neville did as he was told, then looked quizzically at Charlie. "Where are we going?"

Charlie smiled shyly. "My place, if that's all right with you. I'll need some help getting into a warm bath before this leg cramps beyond use. You could Floo home from there if you wanted."

Neville settled his arms around Charlie's waist. "Or not."

"Or not," Charlie agreed, kissing Neville's lips for the first time. "Hold on." His arms tightened around Neville's waist, and they Apparated away from the dragon cows binging on vegetable marrows. Neville's last impression of the dragon pens was the sound of a satisfied low murmur, though whether it was from Maria or from her keeper, safe and warm in his arms, he couldn't be bothered to tell.


End file.
